


Disorganized

by Ray_Writes



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Human, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-11 03:04:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11705490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ray_Writes/pseuds/Ray_Writes
Summary: Donna is temping as an attendance secretary at a school where she meets John Smith, an absent-minded single father.





	Disorganized

**Author's Note:**

> This idea popped into my head and wouldn't stop bugging me until I wrote it, so have a silly little human AU. Thanks for reading and please enjoy!

Donna was never taking a school position again. Not even if it paid well.

Already she’d had to deal with twelve tardies, ten different parents calling their kids in sick after the day had already started, and a whole slew of students turning in permission slip forms for a field trip to the zoo last minute. And it wasn’t even lunch.

It wasn't that she didn't like kids. She liked them a lot — though the worst of the teenagers she could do with a bit less of — and in truth couldn't wait to be a mum someday. Even if her mother said she'd already waited too long. But being an attendance secretary meant she was living vicariously through chasing down a bunch of other people's kids trying to skive off. She was making sure the temp agency knew her job preferences after this!

The day kept wearing on at its slow pace. At the least the office was finally empty of anyone but her; Donna thought now was a good time to make use of that electric tea kettle while she went through the attendance logs and called all the parents of the absentees.

The door opened just as she was tossing the tea bag, of course, so she took the second she was turned away to draw in a breath and plaster a smile on her face. Then she spun the chair around to face her very unwelcome visitor.

“Here we go,” said the skinniest man she’d ever seen, dropping a small stack of paper on her desk without even looking at her and turning back for the door.

Oh, that was  _ it _ .

“Oi!” She barked. The man stopped right in his tracks. “And what am I supposed to do with this?”

He looked round, actually seeming to notice her for the first time, and his eyes widened. “You’re not Cheryl.”

“Well  _ duh _ ,” she replied, not very professionally.

He hurried back over to the desk, practically tripping over himself. “Sorry, so sorry! I didn’t mean to be rude — I don’t mean to be, usually — Cheryl’s just made it quite clear she likes to get through this quickly as possible. Didn’t realize she was...out.”

“She’s having surgery. She’ll be back in six months. I’m just the temp,” she answered his unspoken question.

He deflated slightly. “Oh. Well, six months, that’s something.”

Donna looked at him. “You said you don’t usually mean to be rude?”

“Yeah,” he scrubbed a hand over his cheek, looking quite sheepish. “Usually. But, er, six months is an awful long time for you to be ‘just the temp’. You’ll be seeing me, anyway, so probably best to do names. I’m John.”

“Donna.”

“Nice to meet you, Donna,” he said with a smile, showing off a lot of teeth.

“Why will I be seeing you?”

“Oh, well—” he gestured to the stack of paper still sitting between them “—this tends to happen quite a lot. Almost every day. It’s my daughter, see, she is brilliant. But she’s a little scatterbrained. Gets that from me, I’m afraid.” He thumbed through the pages. “It’s homework today. Probably be a permission slip tomorrow. Always something.”

He said it all in a very fast ramble which Donna could only watch and try to keep up with. “What’s her name?”

“Smith. Jenny Smith,” he supplied. “I think she’s in maths right now.”

Donna spun her chair back towards the computer, but paused. “Your name’s John Smith?”

He grimaced. “I know.” John Smith watched her click and type her way through a search for Jenny Smith, who was indeed in maths. Very advanced maths.

Donna took up the phone and punched in the extension with one hand. “Hi, this is Donna from attendance. Jenny Smith’s father is here to drop off her homework.” She listened politely, then said, “Thank you. Bye,” and hung up the line.

“You’re rather good at all that,” John Smith observed.

“It’s just typing.” Donna shrugged off the compliment. “You know, if she has so much trouble keeping track of her things you ought to draw up a checklist for her to go through in the morning before she leaves. Make sure she’s got everything then.” She glanced up to see him staring at her with wide eyes. “What?”

“Oh,” he breathed. “Oh, that’s  _ brilliant _ !” His face split into an ecstatic grin. “A checklist! Can’t believe I’ve never thought of that before — oh, you’re good!”

“Alright, let’s not get too excited,” Donna said, rather flustered. No one ever reacted to one of her ideas like that.

He was already digging through his pockets for a scrap of paper which he slapped on the counter, then helped himself to one of her pens. Then he paused, pen hovering over paper. “Blimey, can’t seem to think of it all at once.”

“Then take it home,” she told him. Was he hopeless or what! “Your wife might know better.”

Something in his expression shuttered, except his eyes which suddenly seemed so impossibly sad. “Yes, she probably would have.”

Donna froze. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

“No, no, it’s alright,” he excused immediately, voice almost carefully light, and Donna knew it was absolutely not alright at all. “You weren’t — it was ages ago. Jenny hardly remembers her, which, well. I shouldn’t be bothering you with all this,” he said abruptly, backing away a step. “I can handle it.”

“I’ll help!” Donna blurted, standing and leaning over to snag his hand before he could get too far away. “We can draw up a list right now, together.”

He stared down at their joined hands for a moment, then his eyes slowly rose to meet Donna’s.

“Okay,” he agreed softly. With him suddenly being so close she was able to notice he had large, brown eyes. Currently they were gazing into hers.

Donna sat back down, her hand sort of slipping out of his, and smoothed her skirt. John cleared his throat and produced a pair of glasses from somewhere which he perched on his nose. Then he helpfully pushed his paper just a little closer and angled to the side so she could read it.

The scrap looked to be torn off a bit of stationary and the name  _ John Smith, PhD _ was printed at the bottom. So he was some sort of Dr. Smith then, an oddball genius. He seemed the type.

“Alright, so, homework?” She offered as an opener. He nodded and jotted it down.

“Permission slips.”

Donna glanced up at him. “How many does she need?”

“Jenny goes on a lot of extracurricular trips. She's really clever,” he defended. It might have come off as boastful if he wasn't talking about his daughter. Instead, Donna found it rather sweet. “Not to mention all the times she comes with me.”

“Do you travel a lot?” She wondered what his job was, or a way to ask without sounding nosy.

“Oh yes.” He thought for a moment, then continued on, “Change of clothes. She runs track after school.”

Donna was starting to get a vivid picture in her mind of an overachieving teenager, maybe with her dad's glasses or bright smile. “How about schoolbooks?”

“Right. See, I would've missed that completely!”

“Probably should add notebooks too, then.”

“Uh-huh. And backpack,” he said, writing it down.

“Backpack?” Donna echoed.

He met her eyes briefly. “It's happened.”

“You said she gets this from you?”

“Who do you think let her out the door without the backpack?”

Donna looked at him but couldn't seem to keep from smiling, even as she shook her head. He grinned at her.

Then they were both laughing. She wasn't sure who started or how it had come over her so suddenly, but there were practically tears in her eyes and John was liable to fall over the counter and into her lap, bent double as he was.

The door out into the corridor swung open. “Dad?”

They both froze, then John spun around which allowed Donna a view of a pretty blonde in a ponytail before he was engulfing her in a hug. “Jenny! How's your day going?”

“Better now. I didn't think you'd still be here. You're not normally!” It was obvious to anyone with eyes the two adored each other, and considering what Donna already knew about their family she found herself very glad to see it.

An unexpected bout of nerves joined that feeling when John stated, “Well, normally Donna isn't here.”

“Hi,” Donna greeted.

Jenny looked over the desk at her. “Hello. Is Cheryl gone?”

“Only for six months.”

The girl’s shoulders slumped. “Oh.”

“I know,” her father commiserated. Donna fixed him with a look and he straightened up. “She's having surgery. We’ll have to send a card.”

“Add it to the list,” Donna suggested.

“What list?” Asked Jenny.

“Oh, Donna's helping me write up a list for you to go over in the morning,” he announced brightly. “Her idea.”

“Oh. Thank you, you didn't have to.” If the girl was embarrassed she was hiding it well.

“That's your homework there, miss,” Donna said, nodding to the little stack. “Lucky thing your father could stop by with it.”

“I know,” Jenny agreed, scuffing her foot on the floor. “But, er, Dad, didn't you have that lunch meeting for work?”

“Oh, right!” John’s eyes had gone impossibly wide and one of his hands dragged through his hair, messing it up even more than it already had been. “I forgot!” He kissed his daughter on the forehead. “Have a good day. Donna, lovely to meet you.”

“You too,” she found herself saying, though he was already sprinting out the door. Hang on, was he wearing trainers with that suit?

“Well, I should get back to class,” Jenny excused herself after having watched her dad rush off. “Thanks for your help!”

“No problem,” she replied.

“I guess I won’t be seeing you much, which is sort of a shame, really, because you seem very nice.” She clearly had inherited her father’s habit of rambling as well. “I think I’d like you.”

“Thanks.” Her computer chirped with an email notification and Donna half-turned to address it.

“Dad seems to, anyway.”

Donna looked up sharply, but Jenny Smith was already walking out the door with her homework. She couldn’t have meant...no. No, Donna was reading way too much into this odd, adorable little family that she barely knew and had no reason to be so strangely charmed by, and she needed to stop right now. John Smith had just walked out the door and out of her life like any other person. He’d probably already forgotten her, absent-minded as he was.

Yet not two minutes later John himself was back with another sheepish grin. “This is yours,” he said, placing the pen down on her desk.

“Yes it is, thank you.”

He stood there another moment. Donna arched an eyebrow.

“Aren't you running late?”

“Yes, yes I am. Well, um—” he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet once “—bye.”

“Bye,” said Donna, and watched him go again.

She turned back to the computer and finally opened the email. Trouble was, she couldn't seem to muster the focus to do more than skim it. Her whole day had taken an unexpected turn when he’d shown up, and she couldn't seem to just settle back into the normal routine.

Yet it was over, wasn't it?

—-

The next day, Donna was already well on her way to a headache and possibly a cold. This place was crawling with germs; yet another joy of motherhood she was getting to experience secondhand on this assignment. Lovely.

As it was, she barely even lifted her head to greet the person who entered the office, but then felt her mouth drop open in shock. “John!”

“Donna, hello!” He was beaming at her yet again, and she couldn't keep from smiling back, even as he placed a book on the counter. “This is for Jenny. She forgot it in the car.”

“What happened to the checklist?”

“Yeah, I forgot where I put that, too,” he admitted.

“Check your suit pockets,” she advised. He was wearing another one today in blue, no tie.

“Oh yeah, that's probably it.” He frowned. “I just dropped it off at the cleaners’, though.”

Donna shook her head. “Oh, you are  _ hopeless _ .”

“I know,” he agreed, smiling wanly.

“I’ll write you another one,” she said, grabbing one of the stacks of post-its sitting at her workstation.

“Oh, thank you. You're brilliant, really.”

Donna glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He had his elbows propped on the counter and looked like he couldn't be happier anywhere else in the world, waiting on her. No one ever looked at her like that.

She finished the list and, before she could lose her nerve, ripped off the post-it, flipped it over, and scrawled her number on the back.

Donna half-stood and pressed the sticky bit on the back of his hand. “There, shouldn't forget it now.”

“Oh, thanks,” he said, grinning, and pulled it off to instead tuck into his breast pocket. He didn't look at the other side. “Sorry to keep bothering you like this.”

“I don't mind,” she answered. “Have to pass the time somehow. I’ll let Jenny’s teacher know to send her down.”

“Brilliant. Well, I should get going. It was good seeing you. Again, I mean.”

She had to press her lips together to keep from giving him a silly grin. “You too.”

“Right.” He was having just as much difficulty leaving as yesterday, and possibly more. “Bye then, Donna.”

“Bye, John.”

It was only after the door swung shut behind him that Donna released the breath she'd been holding. Had she gone mad? Giving her number to some man she'd known only a day, and at work! Her mum would be going spare.

There was no guarantee he'd see it, of course. Even if he did, he might not even realize what it was.

But if he did…

Donna reminded herself sternly that there was no guarantee he'd even call. He hadn't said he was interested, in dating or her, and there was every chance she'd taken his friendliness as a sign incorrectly. Nerys would say she was. At any rate, it was Jenny Smith who needed her attention now. Donna picked up the desk phone and dialed.

If her eyes kept straying to her purse where her mobile currently sat, well, no one needed to know but her.


End file.
